


Voice in the silence

by VikingShadows



Series: Rick Riordan Worlds [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VikingShadows/pseuds/VikingShadows
Summary: Hazel had a rough week of camp jupiter Drama. She's not particularly happy to be the recent center of attention of said drama either just because some people are petty when she does her job as centurion well. Looking forward to a weekend of just sleeping and feeling sorry for herself, her brother shows up with some much needed TLC.





	Voice in the silence

_**The history of camp Jupiter was that there once was a legion, the Twelfth Legion Fulminata** (Also known as the thunderbolt legion), that got the mission by Jupiter himself to "stay alive, recruit demigods and their children, keep Rome going." The legion not only succeeded their mission and survived long past the fall of Rome, but has also kept the Roman culture within Camp Jupiter. Like a time capsule kept over a small military based town. _  
  
_The legion renamed their hidden headquarters in California to New Rome. Collectively "New Rome" and the Legion, makeup Camp Jupiter: the last vestige of the Roman Empire. Most of the legion's soldiers and residents are either demigods, or descended from demigods (and most of New Rome's civilian population are Ex-legionaries or their children.)_  
  
_And although Camp Jupiter was meant to be a haven for demigods and their families to be protected from monsters - as well as protect the world from monsters - it grew it's own system to try keep the peace. After all, it no longer stood as just a legion, it was now all that remained of the old empire. Which meant that politics and corruption wasn't far away from anybody. Status and position mattered, it even mattered from whom you were descendant from or whom your godly parents were. And common civilian folk that did not engage in politics and dropped their legioner service after the mandatory three year duty... Often wound up being worth less by those that didn't. Even if on paper, they were all equal._

 _On top of temple hill, a small walk away from the inner central of the camp, stood all the roman gods shrines.. watching over it's roman citizens._  
  
  
-

Being a centurion was difficult when you were just 14 and had a kind heart.

Hazel had a rough day training with her legioners of the 5th cohort, not from the physical training, but from the political atmosphere. Her legioners loved her, she was kind and just with them. She would train with them, not just boss them around - which was signs of a good leadership.

Most centurions commanded groups of around 80 men, but senior centurions commanded cohorts or took senior staff roles in their legion. But that was back in the old days, in the old Roman empire. Today, a centurion did not have 80 people to order around, but rather a generous group of 10-20. However, 10 or even 20 people in various ages (most older and stronger than her) was a challenge to organise. This of course lead to tensions within the military administrative. Many wanted her to quit for several reasons..  
1) her legioners were too loyal to her rather than the whole of camp jupiter.  
2) other cohorts were performing less well when they knew the 5th were treated better.  
3) there was word going around that Hazel's boyfriend, Frank Zhang one of the two praetors of camp jupiter, was giving her special treatment and funding.

So today had been the last day of a very long week of terrible gossip and camp drama. Hazel was thankful she could retreat to the small one room apartment outside the training facilities. Now she would just spend the whole weekend alone in her pjamas and paint. She would make pancakes and eat icecream, because she deserved it!

"ughh.." She groaned, kicking the door shut behind her. She flipped the lock on the door and then lazily flung her shoes in the general direction of her legioner bag and her jacket. "uughhhhh.." She groaned again and fell face first into her bed. She hated everything. She hated being a demigod at days like these. Normal 14 year old girls spent their summers hanging out with friends to do fun things like, oh, going to the cinema, going swimming, etc. She was jealous of the campers that only spent their summers training there before going back home to their _normal_ lives. And if you were just a descendant, you didn't even have to _stay_ in camp jupiter after your three mandatory summers because the smell of demigod was barely on you.

Unlike full-blooded demigods like her. They had to stay, otherwise they were on the risk of being attacked. She always thought it odd that the greek camp, camp half-blood, didn't have mandatory stay. No wonder the greek demigods were fewer and died sooner. they weren't within the fields of protection continuously. Their camp was more like a summer camp than anything?

it made her think of Annabeth, who was studying architecture in camp Jupiter's university. Perhaps she could update the greek camp to be more permanent stay, so to speak. Build actual houses rather than camp lodgings, so the greek kids had a safe place to move into and remain. To be safe. Right now the greeks only had teenagers at best for their soldiers, while the roman camp had anything from teens to adults.

on the other hand, the greek demigods were far better survivalists out in the "real" world. Roman demigods were very insecure about managing a completely normal life on their own, the security of living and being protected collectively in numbers were very appealing. Perhaps they could learn more from each other? After all, the camps were still very new to each other and still had some struggles to see totally eye-to-eye. 

Perhaps one day.

She sighed into her pillow and rolled over.

Hazel thought about if she could contact Annabeth this weekend and hang out with her? it would be nice to discuss those things with her. But then thought better of it.. She needed to relax, not stir up more rumours about her by talking to a high ranked greek demigod like Annabeth. She couldn't even go to Frank and talk with him because that definitely would have people talking. Same went for Reyna. 

No.. Hazel was alone this weekend, and it forced her eyes to water. She let out a soft sniffle. There was no reason to hold back the tears. She was stressed and felt alone under pressure, unsure what to do with all the attention and negativity towards her. 

And so, the tears came and she pulled her blanket over her head, wrapping herself into a sad burrito. Her small hand reached out to pull in her pony plush Frank had gotten her on valentines, and held it close to her chest as she wept quietly.

She wept her cheeks wet, her eyes puffy, and her breathe filled the dark under the covers with hot air. Soon she wanted fresh air, her curls stuck to her face as she sobbed her last tears out. She was hungry and carefully got out of bed, holding her covers around her like a cape, tip tapping her little feet out to the tiny kitchen. She wanted pancakes but had not bought groceries yet, so noodles had to do. 

Sad and defeated, she sat down on her double seat couch to eat. Spice noodles were her favourite ones. She slurped her noodles, watching the view out her window.

And everything was quiet. 

Hazel didn't like silences like these, it reminded her of the time she was dead. Even if time works differently when you're dead in the fields of asphodel, it still was something she remembered as quite a long time of _nothingness_. She could recall trying to talk with other souls there, and they would apathetically walk past her. There were few responses and when they did talk, it was seldom anything you'd call a conversation. People lost themselves in Asphodel. And as a daughter of Pluto, she was immune to the effects the air there had on others. She was essentially the only sentient person there amongst the shells of souls just resting or wandering aimlessly in bliss. 

She would spend most of her time weaving crowns out of the tall grass and put it on people. Nobody ever minded after all. 

Hazel blinked herself back to reality and found she had begun braiding the hair of her plush pony absently. 

"Oh dear.." She quietly told herself. "Whatever should you do with yourself Hazel?" She eyed the pony, as though it would reply. But it didn't. Just like the souls in Asphodel. And just like she had done onto the souls that lingered around down there in the underworld, Hazel slowly embraced her pony to feel some sense of company and comfort.

Loneliness was something she didn't take well to. She was a bubbly person, surrounded by good friends and loyal work comrades. She had a kind heart and an uplifting spirit. But truth of her was that when she was alone, she felt scared and suffocated. Like maybe she didn't matter. Like maybe nobody cared about her. Even though she knew they did, of course people did. But it didn't shake the cold feeling that clung to her soul, the cobwebs hanging from her shoulders from asphodel. 

_You're alone and you're going to remain alone here for eternity._

She shook her head.

"I'm not alone.. I'm just a little upset and stressed." She said to herself, to fill the silence with her own voice. "I'm doing pretty alright, if Im going to be completely honest." And brushed the braid on her pony. "And no matter what anyone says about me, I'm still true to myself. I shouldn't let it get to me, no?" But her pony didn't respond. "Exactly. I will just.. have some me-time this weekend. to boost my self esteem up!"

She laid down on the couch and wrapped the covers around her more. "That's right.. I haven't done anything, their just upset because... because... I'm giving them trouble, I suppose..." A big sigh. "Maybe I should do things the old way, y'know? So they will get off my back. But then.. My cohort will be upset with me and feel like I'm treating them unfairly all of a sudden. Maybe I can explain it to them?"

Hazel kicked at her covers and put her pony over her face. Groaning loudly. "I don't know what to doooooooo!" 

"Trouble with the romans?" Asked a familiar, deep, voice. Hazel snapped her head towards the dark figure that seated himself in the armrest. He gave her a gentle smile. 

"Nico!" Hazel proclaimed, surprised. "What are you doing here!?" She sat up, smiling from ear to ear. Beaming like a small sun. 

"Hey." He replied, but his smile fell when he saw her puffy face and sore eyes. "...Have you.. been crying?"

"Oh!" Hazel quickly wiped at her face. "No I just- I mean, I was reading a sad book earlier." But her brother's brows lowered, unconvinced. "Really, don't worry about it."

"..Hazel." Nico got out of the chair to move over next to her on the couch. His slim arm wrapped around her back to pull her into a warm hug. 

"it's nothing!" Her laugh was halfhearted, and her brother's lips were sealed shut but his eyes spoke of tenderness. She wished she had not looked up into those dark brown pits of gentleness, she felt a new flood of tears surface and her lips curled.

"Oh, Hazel.." Nico brushed her hair away from her face, and she ducked it into his chest. "it's alright. I'm here." And she cried against him, wrapping her arms around his strong frame. 

She cried and cried, as Nico's hand brushed over her head and back, comforting and hushing her. Hazel loved her brother, he always gave her a sense of home and safety. Like no matter where she is in the world, her brother will always show up when she needs him the most. He will always support her and comfort her. His arms protected her from the world, much like her father Pluto's cape did when he shrouded her in it.  He had grown into someone very reliable and steady, although she knew Nico amongst everyone she knew struggled the most with, well, most things social.. There was nothing short on love within him. 

He may be as quiet as a shadow, but he would loyally follow you through anything.

He brushed her hair as her sobs turned to sniffles once more. "Feeling better?" He asked, and got a small nodding in response. "Alright, good.. Now, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I figure, I'll stick around for when you do, alright?"

And Hazel smiled, wiping at her face. "Yeah, thanks. I'd really like some company right now." And as if on que, Nico produced a handkerchief for her. it was dark green linen with golden lines around it. "Oh, thank you... it's very pretty." she used it to clean her cheeks from tears. "Where'd you get it?"

"Hades." He said and pocketed it again inside his jacket once she handed it back. "He had made it for my mother, but never got to give it."

"Oh, I see.." She patted his knee. "at least her son gets to use it like a proper gentleman." And that brought smiles back to both of them.

"Well, that is what they are for. Not sure when that went out of style but... I always liked that when I was smaller. When a lady was crying, you gave her your handkerchief."

"haha, well, I guess people might find that a bit sexist nowadays."

"how come?"

"Because it's like.. you'd only have it because you expect girls to be more sensitive and cry?"

Nico shrugged. "I would give my handkerchief to anyone who is in need of it, regardless of gender. The gesture in itself is just.. I don't know..? it feels right to have something like that. A lot of people cry around me after all."

Hazel pushed him. "Oh stop it, hahaha, you don't make people cry. you're not that scary."

"Hehe, perhaps not. But offering a piece of gentleness like that does help others to not be as scared of me if they do cry."

"... have people actually cried at you?"

"Mostly children, old ladies or jumpy folks. But that's not why I have it. it was my mother's and it makes me feel close to her by being respectful of others tears."

Hazel leaned onto his shoulder. "You're kind Nico." 

He patted her head. "You too, Hazel." He stood up, letting her fall onto the couch behind him "Are you hungry? Lets make some food."

The centurion grinned and let out a light chuckle. "I just had noodles- I didn't finish them but... I guess I could eat again."

"No no, lets cook something proper."

"like what?"

"Pizza."

"Pizza is not proper."

"it is if you do it yourself. And pizza is the best comfort food."

"Alright master chef, do you know how to make pizza?"

"..... No, but we'll make do with what you got. You got bread here I see. And cheese.. I mean, I can work with this."

"oh my gods. You're just going to throw things together and hope it works, aren't you?"

"yes. that's how I live my life Hazel. I just wing everything- ah you got ketchup! we can use that for tomato sauce!"

She laughed, and watched him explore her tiny kitchen area. it was nice to have him there. She knew most people didn't appreciate his company, but she did immensely. They thought of him as quiet and spooky, but to her he was noisy and kind of goofy. it was subtle, sure, but it was there, and once you saw it; it was hard to unsee it. He was just an awkward gentle guy. 

Hazel remembered the moment he found her in Asphodel, how he spoke to her. How she could hold his hand and he would squeeze back. How he could speak to her when nobody else was responsive to her.. She could've died from happiness had she not already been dead.

He was the voice in the silence, he always had been. 

 

 

 


End file.
